


The 3 AM Phone Call

by agape_eternal



Category: Swimming RPF
Genre: Adultery, Character Death, Cheating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-21
Updated: 2009-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-25 22:04:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agape_eternal/pseuds/agape_eternal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Debbie calls in the middle of the night to give Michael some bad news.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 3 AM Phone Call

Michael gets the call at three in the morning. He groans and rolls over, away from the guy he’s sleeping next to, and picks up the phone.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, voice heavy with sleep.

“Baby, are you ok?” his mother asks softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine why?”

“I know…you didn’t answer the phone when I called earlier so you must be taking it pretty hard.”

“Taking WHAT hard?”

“Oh baby…. I know it’s tough, but this is mom ok? You don’t have to pretend.” Debbie’s voice is obviously worried.

“Mom, what’re you talking about?” Michael asks, voice starting to sound afraid. His mother has never sounded like this before.

And he doesn’t want to tell her he hadn’t answered the phone because he’d spent the whole day and most of the day before fucking and hadn’t bothered to check the messages or figure out why his phone was ringing incessantly.

“Oh my god…” she breathes, and it really sounds like she’s dying. “You don’t…haven’t you watched the news or TV at all today? Or listened to your voicemail?”

Michael flushes heavily. “No, I uhm…was kinda busy…” He glances over his shoulder at John who is still sound asleep behind him.

“Baby its…its Ryan…”

“What about him?” Michael can feel his heart rate speed up as he glances down at the ring on his finger.

“He…well…oh…” she sighs heavily. “He was at an event here in Baltimore last night and apparently, from what I’ve gathered from his parents so far, he was on the penthouse balcony of a party for one of his sponsors. No one knows how or why, but at some point a little fight happened and Ryan well…Ryan fell or was pushed during the fight…and he…well he fell over the railing…”

Michael doesn’t realize at first that he’s sucked in a sharp breath, but he does realize when he’s not breathing and a takes a deep breath. Only it comes out shuddery.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” his mother says on the other end, but all he does is breathe again.

When he’s managed to calm down enough he mutters, “How is he? Should I go see him?” He knows, more than likely, what the answer will be.

There’s a long pause from Debbie before she speaks again. “Honey, Ryan…” she takes a deep breath herself. “Ryan didn’t make it…”

Michael drops his head into his hand and lets out a shuddering sob which causes John to wake up behind him.

“Are you ok?” he asks, looking bewildered. Michael can hear his mother’s gasp on the other end of the phone.

“Michael…” she says softly, her voice suddenly softer than it’s been, “Who is that?”

“I….He’s….I…” But he doesn’t get it out before her demeanor changes.

“Michael Fred Phelps, you better tell me just who the hell that is.”

“I…mom…” Michael whimpers.

  
“Nevermind Michael,” she says sternly, her voice a deathly calm. “There’s some things we have to deal with tomorrow, I’ll see you then.” She hangs up without another word.

Michael stands up, sniffling, and goes into his living room, completely ignoring John's pleas to tell him what's going on, and flips on the light. He survey’s the room, taking in all of Ryan’s various stuff scattered around. It takes him a minute to realize there’s a bag in the doorway. He recognizes the Gucci anywhere…it’s Ryan’s. He blinks, looking harder at the door and realizes it’s slightly open. He goes over and finds Ryan’s keys still in the lock. He knows they’re his because there’s a key ring hanging from them that he had made for him by Tiffany’s with “JEAH!” on it.

Michael pulls the keys loose, closes the door, and turns, facing the couch which is visible from where he’s standing. He and John had been fucking on the couch the day before. He blinks.

 

 _Ryan fully plans on surprising his husband. Being in_   
_  
Gainesville   
_   
_  
is hard on him because he misses Michael badly (and can’t understand why Michael was against the idea of them living together since they’re married). It’s not that he couldn’t find someone down there to spend time with, but he’s got too much respect for their relationship, if nothing else their FRIENDSHIP to not even think about it. So he’s stunned when he opens the door to Michael’s apartment, all bouncy excitement to see the husband he’s missed, and finds him in the full throes of orgasm…with some guy underneath him, on the couch…the one they picked out…together. He drops the Gucci bag (that was a birthday present from Michael to match his backpack) in the doorway and backpedals, having enough foresight to close the door mostly before he makes his way back down the hall. He isn’t crying, which is weird to him. He always thought if he caught Michael in the act he’d scream and cry and tell him he wanted a divorce and say things like ‘how could you?’ and ‘don’t I mean more than that?!’ He does none of those things, however, and is almost scarily composed. He just walks calmly back to the elevator and pushes the button. He doesn’t throw a tantrum inside the lift, doesn’t cry and pull at his hair or fall on his knees like he always imagined, just pushes the button for the lobby floor and waits patiently as it takes him down. He manages a smile for the lady who is standing outside with arms full of groceries. He goes back inside, pushing the ‘door open’ button for her and asks what floor. She enters and tells him and he hits the button before slipping out, nodding at her thanks.   
_

_Ryan steps out into the_   
_  
Baltimore   
_   
_  
midday   
_   
_  
sun and looks around before taking a right and walking down the street for a while. He walks until he hits the McDonalds and realizes he’s kinda hungry, but flashes of how many times he and Michael have come here stop him from going in. He crosses the street and pulls his phone out, dialing a cab. When the cab gets there, he asks to be taken to the Marriott Waterfront. He figures he can rent a room since the party he wasn’t going to attend (since he used it as an excuse just to visit) is there anyway. He checks in, taking the suite they offer as part of the party and goes upstairs, settling beside the window. He calls Peter to say he’s coming to the event and logs onto his iPod to find the closest store with decent suits. He locates a Calvin Klein store and calls a cab to take him there.   
_

_By the time he returns to the hotel, he’s got a nice black three-piece, free of charge, and shoes to match. He thinks the suit looks plain when he tries it on again since most of his jewelry, minus the wedding ring, is back at Michael’s in the bag he left. He takes the suit back off and jumps in the shower, thankful the hotel has really good smelling products. It’s then that he notices, even though the waters pretty hot, he can barely feel it. Somewhere in the back of his mind he makes a note that it’s a bad sign, but he just keeps washing. His skin would be—should be—sore, but he can’t really feel it. He gets out and blow dries his hair before dressing again, glancing at the clock. He’s just in time._

 _Ryan rides the elevator up to the party. He smiles slightly when he sees his agent._

 _“Ryan how are…are you ok?” Peter asks, looking him over._

 _“Yeah, I’m good. Why?”_

 _And Peter doesn’t have an answer. Maybe it’s that the normally vibrant blue eyes of his have lost their sparkle and gone an unnatural level of blankness, like he’s not seeing anything around him._

 _“Uh….where’s Michael? I figured you’d bring him.”_

 _“Oh, he was a bit occupied earlier, so I came alone,” he says causally with a shrugs of his shoulders. “That’s not a problem right?” he asks, though he really doesn’t care._

 _“No, of course not. Well, go mingle and have fun,” Peter says with a smile before he finds a corner secluded enough to dial Michael._

 _When he gets no answer he frowns and leaves a message. “Hey Michael, its Peter. I’m here at a sponsor party with Ryan and he just seems…off. Now you know I’m not one to get into your personal business but…did you two fight or something? He doesn’t look very good. Call me back.”_

 _  
He watches as Ryan works the room, minus his usual sparkly nature. He loses Ryan for a while, getting caught up in a conversation, but keeps an eye out. Eventually he spots the swimmer standing next to the railing of the balcony, some kind of alcoholic drink in his hand. Ryan’s not really drinking it though, just sipping. He turns his attention away long enough to talk to someone else. He hears the argument break out, but doesn’t pay attention to it.   
_

_Neither does Ryan until he’s bumped into. He’s not sure why these two guys are fighting, but they’re close to him. He doesn’t say anything, just leans over the side of the balcony and drops his drink off, just to see what it does. In the twilight, he can’t really see it, but he hears the glass break at almost the same time he feels like he’s falling, which he thinks is nice because it’s a FEELING and he’s been devoid of those today. He knows he might have a chance if he reaches out for something, anything, but he doesn’t, just lets himself continue to fall, feels the wind combing his freshly styled curls. He doesn’t feel it when he hits, even though he knew it was coming. He doesn’t feel anything now, though he can’t really tell the difference, he’s been feeling like this all day. His very last thought is of Michael, and that despite what he’s done, he still loves him. Part of him wonders if it’s possible just to see him again._

 

Michael stands there for a while before he goes over and turns on the TV. It’s still on CNN from the last time he watched it.

 

 _“Jeah, so I thought I’d come up this weekend. There’s this dinner thing for a sponsor and it’d give us time together…” Ryan doesn’t give a shit about the dinner, he just misses Michael._

 _Michael doesn’t respond right away, pressing a finger to his lips and telling John to be quiet as he flips channels, stopping on CNN for a news fix._

 _“Is that a no or…? I don’t HAVE to come,” Ryan asks after a minute of waiting. Michael hasn’t been eager to see him lately and refuses the urge to whine something like ‘don’t you MISS ME AT ALL?’_

 _“No no, it’s cool baby. Whatever you wanna do,” he mutters, distracted by a naked John stroking himself on full display._

 _“Yeah…ok,” and Michael can tell Ryan’s mood is deflated._

 _“I’d love it if you came Ry, really.”_

 _“Ok.”_

 _“I mean it.”_

 _“Yeah, ok. I’ll be there. I gotta go, I love you though.”_

 _“You too, bye.” He hangs up before Ryan can say anything else, smirking at John._

 _  
_

Michael blinks back to reality slowly, focusing on the TV. It’s currently showing a rerun of Anderson Cooper 360˚. Michael’s heart stops pounding long enough for him to catch the tail end of the show.

“And finally tonight,” Anderson says, “We celebrate the life of a young swimmer. 6–time Olympic medalist Ryan Lochte, just 26 years old, died last night after falling from the balcony of the Marriott Waterfront hotel in Baltimore, Maryland where he was attending a dinner for one of his sponsors. His husband, fellow Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps, could not be reached for comment, though their agent, Peter Carlisle released a statement on his behalf saying, ‘This is a tragic time for Michael and his family as well as the Lochte family and they all ask that you please give them their space and a chance to grieve privately’.”

It wasn’t real for Michael until now. Debbie saying, “Ryan didn’t make it,” doesn’t hit home until they show the ambulance, the EMT’s lifting the body bag onto a gurney and pushing it into the back, the quick shot of blood where Ryan was laying. At first Michael thinks he’s about to throw up until Anderson chimes back in.

“When I talked to Ryan just last month he had this to say, take a look…” Michael gulps as they cut to a video of a smiling Ryan, sitting there across from Anderson, diamond bracelet and wedding ring glinting in the sunlight.

“So what’s your main goal in swimming?”

Ryan takes a deep breath and tosses his curls back lightly. “My main goal? That’s definitely to beat Michael. I mean, he’s the face of the sport and it’s only natural for me to want to beat him. I’ve been chasing him my whole career.”

“Is that weird for you two because you’re married?”

“No. When we get into the pool we’re just as much rivals as we’ve ever been. I’m expecting to beat him in London.”

They cut back to Anderson and Michael’s heart sinks a little, like if they keep showing Ryan, it won’t make everything real, like it’ll make him come back to life.

“Ryan won’t have the chance to see if could do that, though he has beaten Phelps at a few races recently. The two were secretly married in 2008 before the Beijing Olympics. That’s just so sad Erica, he was so young.”

“I know,” Erica Hill chimes in, clicking her tongue. “You know, he was such a sweetheart and so talented. It really is a shame.”

Michael hears her tap her papers and he can’t take it, standing up to turn off the TV, slapping at the button hard. He turns to walk away and it’s like a wall of sudden pain hits him. It’s worse than anything he’s ever felt and more twisted than anything he could ever imagine. It hits him hard in the gut and he falls to his knees, holding his stomach. He doesn’t even realize he’s moaning loudly like he’s dying until John comes out.

“What the fuck? Michael what’s wrong?” he asks. Michael’s been seeing him for the past 3 months, but before it was someone else. He got lonely and he didn’t have the resolve Ryan did. He admitted to two affairs previously and Ryan stayed by his side, told him they could work things out, but he just pulled further and further away, and now all he can think of is Ryan.

He doesn’t answer John, just puts his head down between his knees, still holding his stomach, though the pain is working it’s way up his chest, twisting around his heart, and up into his throat. He’s rocking and John’s almost afraid, especially when Michael lets out the scream that’s been building. It’s guttural and literally hurts John as he stands there, unsure of what to do. It really sounds like someone is killing Michael, especially when the heavy screaming sobs start and he can’t make them stop. John doesn’t understand, doesn’t get it until there’s a knock on the door. He walks past the TV, turning it on before grabbing the door.

“Oh my god,” Hilary says, rushing past him and settling on the floor beside her distraught brother. She gathers Michael into her arms and lets him keep screaming and crying for Ryan as she rocks him.

“Shhh,” she soothes. “It’ll be ok, it’ll be ok,” she tells Michael, though she really isn’t sure, not with the way Michael keeps screaming, tears streaming down his face.

Eventually, he stops screaming, only because his voice has given out. The sun is coming up and all he does is make small whimpering noises into Hilary’s shoulder.

She looks John over, who now, after seeing the news, understands. “Help me get him into bed and then get the fuck out.” He nods, understanding her harshness, and lifts Michael up, carrying him back to his bed. Once in it, Michael pulls the blankets over his head, crying softly.

When John’s gone, she pulls the sheets back. “You’re an asshole and you fucking know it,” she tells him. “Now get up and get dressed. You have to see his parents and mom and take care of some husbandly shit.”

He just shakes his head and she laughs, but it’s cold and hurt. “Like you have a RIGHT to refuse.”

He does get up, eventually, and when he’s alone in the shower he hears Ryan laugh softly, hears it echoing in the steamy room.

“Your sisters such a bitch sometimes,” Ryan says and Michael smiles despite himself.

“Yeah she is.”

He hears Ryan’s soft laugh again and feels him rest his chin on his shoulder.

“I love you,” Ryan says softly, kissing Michael’s neck.

“I love you too Ry.” And it’s the first time he’s FELT it in a while. That makes him sad.

“I know.” Ryan’s arms go around his waist.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I should’ve…I…”

“I know,” Ryan soothes. “Believe me, I know. Just know that…that I loved you with everything inside of me ok? And that, no matter what, my love never faltered for a second. My faith in us? Jeah. My trust in you? Oh hell yeah. But my love never did. I will always love you baby, you need to know that, to believe it. Do you?”

“Yes…” Michael murmurs, voice quiet and completely trusting.

“Good.”

He turns Michael in his arms and kisses him softly, one hand stroking his cheek. “It’s not bye, just see you later.”

Michael nods, hot tears coming down his cheeks. Ryan gives him a small sad smile and kisses his tears away.

“See you later alligator,” Ryan murmurs.

“After while crocodile,” Michael whispers back.

And just like that, he’s alone in the shower.


End file.
